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Old 04-01-2011, 05:48 PM   #150
Wight of the Old Forest
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Join Date: Dec 2008
Location: Unattended on the railway station, in the litter at the dancehall
Posts: 3,139
Pitchwife is lost in the dark paths of Moria.Pitchwife is lost in the dark paths of Moria.Pitchwife is lost in the dark paths of Moria.Pitchwife is lost in the dark paths of Moria.
Rollan's advice had Coldan quite befuddled. Did Asta really expect him to read her mind? If he could do that, he wouldn't have had to ask for advice in the first place. And flowers? Seriously? It wasn't like he hadn't thought of that himself, but the one time he had tried to give her flowers she had looked at him as if he'd offered her a dead duck and all but flung the bouquet in his face. Maybe, he pondered, yarrow and tansy just happened not to be her favourite flowers; come to think of it, the roots and clots of soil still attached to the stalks might have had something to do with it, too.

Being patient was easy - what else had he been in the last three years? - , and he could be as stubborn as an ox if he had set his mind on something, like when he had defied his father by choosing to live with an acting troupe over the family business. Confidence, on the other hand, was his big deficiency, at least as far as women were concerned. And respect? He thought he respected Asta all right, but how was he supposed to make her respect him? Even when she was friendly with him, she never seemed to take him seriously.

In one point, however, Rollan was absolutely right. He didn't really have much to lose.

"Zank you for your open ear and your kind vords", he said, turning his cup and watching the wine swirl inside. "You hev given me a lot to zink about." Not that he hadn't already done more than enough thinking and too little acting up to now. And right then he remembered a thought that had quite lapsed from his mind since yesterday; time to do something about that while he was in Brinn's good books.

He emptied his cup in one draught and rose. "Last round is on me." He left a couple of coins on the table to pay for the drinks and his meal and strode out of the common room.

In the courtyard, he found not only Harrenon talking to Brinn but also Branor and Therian, who had finally returned from whatever they had been up to since he'd left them on Lamedon Square. All the better. Asta was there as well, standing a few steps apart from the group and apparently studying a crumpled piece of paper, from which she briefly looked up to glower at him. He felt that obnoxious blush rising in his cheeks again, but did his best to ignore it. Fighting the instinct to avoid her in her present mood, he walked up to her and said:

"Listen, I understand zat you're upset because you can't be a heroic elf-maiden, but it's not my fault she never existed, nor is it my fault zat Aldarion got zat wrong in the first place. Neverzeless, I'll try to make it up to you for zat. In ze meantime, can you please stop looking at me as if I hed just wrecked Smaug's gears with a sledgehammer."

So, that was out. Now he could only hope he hadn't angered her even more, but instead of waiting for a reply, he turned to join the little group around Brinn just in time to hear Harrenon say:

“I tried asking Bergil whether it was true that Eowyn had been given the body of the man to be able to defeat the Witchking. It seems that no. Actually, when he heard that, Bergil started laughing and asked about the person who had told us that. Apparently, he was very interested in whatever beverage he was consuming when he came up with such a rumour.”

Perfect. Just the opening he needed. "Indeed", he hastened to affirm, "and zat's vy it's plainly absurd zat Therian should play her; he doesn't vant ze role anyvay, and it's beyond me vy you keep casting him in it. I hev an idea, Brinn - vy can't Asta be Éowyn? She looks ze part, and besides ve both know she's going to be unbearable for ze rest of ze month if she's stuck viz Gollum the She-Orc as her only major role. She'd make a gorgeous shieldmaiden, and Therian vould do much better as a halfling hero or vatever you've got." Or at least no worse, he was going to say, but stopped himself in time. "Vat do you zink?"
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